| Children's Songs Part Three |
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| On Top Of Spaghetti |
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| On top of Spaghetti All covered with cheese I lost my poor meatball When somebody sneezed It rolled off the table And on the floor And the last time i saw it It was going out the door. There are more verses with extended adventures of the wandering meatball, but they are incoherent. -- Dr Pepper from Kay Shapero On top of spaghetti All covered with cheese I lost my two meat balls when somebody sneezed. They rolled off the table And onto the floor I lost my two meatballs When they rolled out the door They rolled down the steps (boom bang bing crash!) And into the street (crash!) They rolled in the gutter (smash!) They weren't fit to eat. Frequently we stopped with the above, but sometimes we'd do the following instead or as well. --Kay They rolled in the garden And under a bush And soon my two meatballs Were nothing but moosh. The moosh was quite tasty Tasty as can be And soon my two meatballs Grew into a tree. The tree was spaghetti All covered with cheese And hanging from each branch Were meatball leaves. So if you like spaghetti All covered with cheese Hold onto your meatballs And try not to sneeze! From Abigail White On top of Spagetti All covered with cheese I lost my poor meat ball When somebody sneezed It rolled off the taaable and onto the floor And now my poor meatball It rolled under the door It rolled in the garden and under a bush and now my poor meatballs are nothing but moosh But early next summer They grew into a tree with beautiful meatballs for you and for me! ~ Thats the one i grew up singing on tha play grounds *smiles* From Paula Evans On top of old spaghetti All covered with cheese I lost my poor meatball When somebody sneezed. It rolled off the table And fell on the floor And then my poor meatball It rolled out the door. A year or so later (Or maybe 'twas three) There grew in my garden A lone meatball tree. Rowdy version collected by Joe Bethancourt On top of spaghetti, all covered with mud I shot my poor teacher with a .44 slug I shot her with pleasure, I shot her with pride I could hardly have missed her, she's 40 feet wide! I went to her funeral, I went to her grave I didn't throw flowers, I threw hand grenades! From Ziza On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese I shot my poor teacher with 40 BBs I went to her funeral, I went to her grave I didn't bring flowers, I threw a grenade! Variant from Carla De Hoyos On top of the School House all covered in blood I shot my poor teacher with an elephant gun. I shot her with pleasure I shot her with pride I couldn't have missed her she was fifty feet wide. She fell off the school house and I heard her scream - and then I woke up it was all just a dream. From Aaron Davies On top of the schoolhouse All covered with sand I shot my poor teacher With a red rubber band I shot her with glory I shot her with pride I couldn't have missed her She was five[1] miles wide I went to her funeral I danced on her grave Some people threw flowers I threw a grenade I went to jail For disturbing the peace But I took my bazooka[2] And shot the police [1] Obviously, any one-syllable number will do. It varied when I heard it. [2] Alternatively, "But when I got out/I shot the police" From Kay Shapero On top of Old Smokey All covered with sand I shot my poor teacher With a red rubber band. I shot her with pleasure I shot her with fear I shot her because she Was drinking my beer. Usually we skipped the last word and instead sequed into the Good Old Fashioned Root Beer chant, like we did at the end of the sipping cider song. From Kit Peters On top of old Smokey all covered in blood I shot my poor teacher with a .44 slug I went to her funeral I went to her grave Instead of throwing flowers, I threw a grenade! Her body went up her body went down her body went splat all over the town the cops they came after me and put me in jail but i found a bazooka and blew them to hell! Central Illinois, 1980s From Marisa "Mayonnaise" Jane G. On top of old Smokey, all covered in Mud, I shot my poor teacher with a .44 slug, I went to her funeral, I spat on her grave Some people threw flowers, I threw a grenade I blew up the City, I blew up the Town, I blew my poor teacher, up out of the ground! Upstate NY, in the Early 90's. We're Out Of Spaghetti, (these additional verses by Dave Aronson) We can't have dessert yet, The main course ain't done, And sittin' around here Is not very fun. We've still got some salad, And soup in the pot, But pasta and meatballs Is what we ain't got. Next time we tell Joe-Bob To come for a meal, Maybe we should find the Best bulk-pasta deal! From cj_jenny2003 On top of ol' smokey covered in blood. I shot my poor teacher with a 44 gun. I went to her funeral. I went to her grave. I looked in her coffin and she wasn't quite dead. So I took a bazooka and blew off her head. |
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| Out Of My Tent Flap |
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Contributed by Denise Puling (to barges) out of my tent flap looking in the night i can see the counselors having a fight curlers in their hair and coldcream on their face they look like men from outer space counsellors, i would like to go with you, i would like to see your boyfriends too counselors, have you runners in your hose, do you fight with boyscouts brave and bold. |
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| Over Hill, Over Dale |
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-collected by Rich Brown Tune: "The Caisson Song" Over hill, over dale, We have just escaped from jail, And the po-lice are hot on our trail. Minnesota, circa 1960 From Ken Ryesky Over hill, over dale, We have just escaped from jail And the coppers are hot on our trail. They've bought guns, they've brought knives They have even brought their wives, And the coppers are hot on our trail. For it's hi hi hee From the penitentiary. Shout out your orders loud and clear. ("More beer!!!") So wherever you go, Be sure to always know, That the coppers are hot on your trail! |
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| Over There |
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Words: traditional kids song Tune: Over there... Contributed by Eugene Marksworth Over there, Over there, Take your chair, and go sit, over there... |
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| Poor Little Fly on the Wall |
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collected by Kathy Edwards Poor Little fly on the wall Noooo body loves you Ain't got no petty skirt ain't got no shimmy shirt ain't got no mommy ain't got no poppy Poor little fly God loves you! (smack) Go to God. |
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| Pepsi jingle |
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From Mitch Marmel It's the Pepsi Generation, Comin' at ya, smelling strong (You're telling ME!)... From Carla De Hoyos Pepsi cola hits the spot makes you throw up in a pot Throw up til your face turns green Drink Seven up with no caffeine. From Irving H. Willis Pepsi Cola is the drink To pour down your kitchen sink Taste like vinegar, looks like ink Pepsi Cola, sure does stink. From Robert Carr Christianity hits the spot, Twelve apostles, that's a lot, Jesus Christ and a virgin too, Christianity's the religion for you. Chicago late '30s, early '40s |
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| Popeye |
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From Dr Pepper I'm Popeye the sailor man (n (n (toot toot) I'm Popeye the sailor man (toot toot) I eat all the worms and i spit out hte germs I'm Popeye the sailor man! From Mitch Marmel I'm Popeye, the Sailor Man... I live in a Garbage Can... I eat all the worms And I spit out the Germs I'm Popeye, the Sailor Man. I'm Popeye, the Sailor Man I live in a frying pan I turn up the heat And I burn up my feet I'm Popeye, the Sailor Man I'm Popeye, the Sailor Man I live in a frying pan I turn up the gas And I burn off my ass I'm Popeye, the Sailor Man I'm Popeye, the Sailor Man I'm Popeye, the Sailor Man I like to go swimmin' With bow-legged women And swim between their legs! (ad nauseam) From J. M. A. Guthrie I'm Popeye the sailor man (toot toot) I live in a frying pan (toot toot) I turn on the gas and burn off my *$$ I'm Popeye the sailor man! From Carla De Hoyos ...turned on the heater and burned off his weiner Popeye the sailor man - toot toot. From "Monkeygod" Im Popye the Sailor MAn! I Live In A GArbage Can! Turned On The Gas Blew Up My Ass Im Popye The SAilor Man, TOOT TOOT From Kit Peters I'm Popeye the Sailor Man I live in a garbage can I always go swimmin' with ten naked wimmin I'm Popeye the Sailor Man! Central Illinois, 1980s |
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| Ralph the Magic Seagull |
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by Gary Boggs and the Rumrunners, about 1962 or so. Ralph the magic seagull Up and down the beach, Ralph the magic seagull Then one day it happened, And after the kiddies got hold of it..... From J. M. A. Guthrie |
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| Rover |
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From J. M. A. Guthrie I'm looking over my dead dog Rover That I over-ran with the mower, One leg is broken, another is gone The third leg is splattered all over the lawn There's no need explaining, The one remaining, It flew through the back door I'm looking over my dead dog Rover That I over-ran with the mower. And a variant verse From Oz I'm looking over my dead dog Rover that I ran over with the mower one leg is missing, one leg is gone one leg is scattered all over the lawn there's no use explaining the one remaining It's hanging by a nail from the kitchen door. From Susan Russell I'm looking over My dead dog Rover Hit my my power mower One leg is missing The other is gone One leg is spread All over the lawn. There's no explaining The leg remaining Spinning on the carport floor. I'm looking over My dead dog Rover Hit by my power mower. (I think it was sometimes "hit by my neighbor's mower") From David Paktor I'm looking over a dog named Rover Who won't let me in the door. His lady owner I'm hoping to see But that stupid mutt is just barking at me: "I'm looking after my lady Master. 'Cause that's what a doggie's for! My name is Rover, go sell your clover, you ain't gettin' in this door!" Summer day camp, Essex County New Jersey, late 1950s |
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| Row Row Row Your Boat |
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-collected by Joe Bethancourt Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream Throw the teacher overboard and listen to her scream! (to "Old Grey Mare":) Five days later she couldn't find her underwear Couldn't find her underwear, couldn't find her underwear Ten days later she was eaten by a polar bear That was the end of her! From Marisa "Mayonnaise" Jane G. Row row row your boat, gently down the stream, Throw your teacher over board, listen to her scream, (change up the tune a bit... ) Five days later float'n down the Dellaware, Chewing on 'er under wear, Couldn't find another pair, Ten days later eaten by a polar bear, Byeeeeeeeee Byyyyyyyeeeee Teacher! Upstate NY, in the Early 90's. From J. Random Folksinger Literate: Propel, propel, propel your craft Through the aquatic solution: Ecstatic, ecstatic, ecstatic, ecstatic! Life is merely illusion! (takes a bit of scansion-stretching for that one, just make it all triplets) Navy: Row, row, row your boat, underneath the stream Ha, ha, fooled you all, I'm a submarine! From Rich Brown last two lines of Literate version: Happily, happily, happily, happily Existence is but an illusion From Kylie Alvis row row row your boat, gently down the stream throw your teacher over board, listen to her scream (different tune here ) five days later sitten on the dellawear chewing on her under wear couldnt find another pear, six days later bitten by a polar bear poor little polar bear died From Mitch Marmel Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream Putt, putt, putt, putt, we're out of gasoline (alternate: Throw your teacher overboard and listen to her scream). |
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| Scab Sandwiches |
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(chanted) Contributed by Monique MacNaughton Scab Sandwiches, pus on top! Monkey's vomit, camel snot! Chopped-up bird nuts, chicken gut stew! Scab sandwiches are good for you! Contributed by David Hughes Scab sandwich, pus on top Alligator eyes all rolled in guts Pigs feet dipped in goo Makes a tasty treat for YOU! |
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| School's Out |
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| From Carol Constantine School's out, school's out, The teacher let the monkeys out. One went in, and one went out, And one fell in the sauerkraut. Denver Colorado, 1940's |
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| See, See Oh Playmate |
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| From Marisa "Mayonnaise" Jane G. See, see oh playmate, Come out and play with me, And bring your dollies three, Climb up my apple tree, Slide down my rainbow, Into my cellar door, And we'll be jolly friends Forever more. One Two Three Four! And its perversion: |
| See, See oh Enemy |
| See, see oh enemy, Come out and fight with me, And bring your shotguns three, Climb up my lemon tree, Slide down my razor, Into my dungeon door, And we'll be enemies, Forever more. One Two Three Four! Upstate NY, in the Early 90's. |
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| She Lost Her Honor At Miami |
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Contributed by Joe Ellis (Parody of the Miami U fight song written by students at their chief rival, the University of Dayton) She lost her honor at Miami because she wasn't strong. She lost her honor at Miami, a student done her wrong. And now she's gonna have a baby as you can plainly see - She lost her honor at Miami, and she blamed it on the U of D! (We didn't do it!) She blamed it on the U of D! (We wish we had!) She blamed it on the U of D! (We surely tried!) Yes, she blamed it on the U of D! |
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| She Sat on a Hillside |
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-collected by Laura Ross She sat on a hillside and played her guitar Played her guitar Played her guitar She sat on a hillside and played her guitar Played her guitar (refrain) Oom plucka plucka Oom plucka plucka Oom pluck pluck pluck He sat down beside her and smoked his cigar Smoked his cigar Smoked his cigar He sat down beside her and smoked his cigar Smoked his cigar (refrain) He told her he loved her but oh how he lied! Oh how he lied! Oh how he lied! He told her he loved her but oh how he lied! Oh how he lied! (refrain) They were to be married but somehow she died Somehow she died Somehow she died They were to be married but somehow she died Somehow she died (refrain) He went to her funeral but just for the ride Just for the ride Just for the ride He went to her funeral but just for the ride Just for the ride (refrain) He sat on her tombstone and laughed 'til he cried Laughed 'til he cried Laughed 'til he cried He sat on her tombstone and laughed 'til he cried Laughed 'til he cried (refrain) The tombstone fell over and -- squish squash! -- he died! Squish squash! He died! Squish squash! He died! The tombstone fell over and -- squish squash! -- he died! Squish squash! He died! (refrain) She went up to heaven and flittered and flied Flittered and flied Flittered and flied She went up to heaven and flittered and flied Flittered and flied (refrain) He went down below her and sizzled and fried Sizzled and fried Sizzled and fried He went down below her and sizzled and fried Sizzled and fried (refrain) The moral of the story is never trust guys* Never trust guys Never trust guys The moral of the story is never trust guys Never trust guys (refrain) *It can also be "never tell lies" From Peter Mork (My dad used to sing this. I never thought it was a kid's song, but maybe it was to him. He always had a verse at the end that went:) If you want anymore you can sing it yourself Sing it yourself Sing it yourself If you want anymore you can sing it yourself Sing it your self-elf-elf elf. |
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| Sipping Cider Through A Straw |
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Contributed by Elspeth Naime The cutest boy I ever saw Was sipping ci- Der through a straw I asked him if He'd show me how To sip some ci- Der through a straw (*) First cheek to cheek Then hip to hip Soon we were si- Pping lip to lip That's how I got My mother-in-law And twenty-nine kids Who call me "Ma" The moral of The story is Don't sip your ci- Der through a straw (*) The verses marked with (*) obviously don't QUITE fit the pattern -- but they are "right" in so far as that's how I've always heard them. Whatever the original might have been, I think it's already been 'filked' by generations of kids... ! Alternate ending Contributed by Kay Shapero "The moral of this story is We don't sip ci- der, we sip fizz The moral of this story is We don't sip ci- der we sip (stop singing, go to chanting LOUDLY) Good Old Fashioned Root Beer! Same Old Stuff As Last Year! Going On Its Fifth Year! Don't you wish we'd stop here!" (at this point everyone else around would yell YES!) And I've also heard it as: The moral is You little dopes We don't sip ci- der we sip Cokes. The moral is you little dears We don't sip cider we sip -- Followed by the Good Old Fashioned Root Beer chant as above. From Ziza The cutest boy I ever saw Was sipping spi- Ders through a skull From Laura Ross The cutest boy (The cutest boy) I ever saw (I ever saw) Was sipping ci- (Was sipping ci-) Der through a straw (Der through a straw) The cutest boy I ever sa-a-aw Was sipping cider through a stra-a-aw I asked him if (I asked him if) He'd show me how (He'd show me how) To sip some ci- (To sip some ci-) Der through a straw (Der through a straw) I asked him if he'd show me ho-o-ow To sip some cider through a stra-a-aw He said of course (He said of course) He'd show me how (He'd show me how) To sip some ci- (to sip some ci-) der through a straw (Der through a straw) He said of course he'd show me ho-o-ow To sip some cider through a stra-a-aw So cheek to cheek (So cheek to cheek) And jaw to jaw (And jaw to jaw) We sipped that ci- (We sipped that ci-) Der through a straw (Der through a straw) So cheek to cheek and jaw to ja-a-aw We sipped that cider through a stra-a-aw And now and then (And now and then) That straw would slip (That straw would slip) And we'd sip ci- (And we'd sip ci-) Der lip to lip (Der lip to lip) And now and then that straw would sli-i-ip And we'd slip cider lip to li-i-ip And now I have (And now I have) A mother-in-law (A mother-in-law) And forty-eight kids (And forty-eight kids) All call me Ma (All call me Ma) And now I have a mother-in-la-a-aw And forty-eight kids all call me Ma-a-a The moral of (The moral of) This story is (This story is) When you sip ci- (when you sip ci-) Der, you sip beer (Der, you sip beer) The moral of this story i-i-is When you sip cider, you sip bee-ee-eer Drink milk! |
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| Snap |
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Contributed by Chuck Wilson Snap goes the trap door another neck is broken. Snap goes the trap door dripping with blood. I'll take the gizard the cold and slimy gizzard. I'll take the gizzard dripping with blood. Illinois, 1959 |
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| Snot and Pooey Pie |
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contributed by Tim Lupton Attributed to kids at English Boarding schools singing about the food therein. (sung to the tune of "A Hunting We Will Go") Snot and pooey pie! Snot and pooey pie! All mixed together with a dead dog's eye! |
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| Soldier in the Grass |
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contibuted by Chuck Wilson There's a soldier in the grass With a bullet up his a......rm Take it out, take it out Like a good Girl Scout. Illinois, 1959 |
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| Stranded |
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From Mitch Marmel To the tune of "Branded": Stranded, Stranded on the toilet bowl- What do you do when you're stranded, And you haven't got a roll? To proooove you're a man You must wipe it with your hand- And thennnn-LICK IT OFF!! From Nancy Jamison Stranded, Sittin on the toilet bowl, What do you do when your stranded, Without a roll.... For once in your life you must prove you're a man Use your hand!!! When your stranded........ Sittin on a toilet bowl. (from Girl Scout camp in Northern California, 1960s) |
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| Suffocation |
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From Susan Russell Chorus: Suffocation, the game of suffocation! Suffocation, a game we love to play! First you take a plastic bag Then you put it on your head. Chorus First you take a rubber hose Then you put it up your nose. (also was more to this one...) From Kay Shapero same chorus First you take a plastic bag then you put it over your head Go to bed, wake up dead Oohhh.... Chorus First you take a rubber hose Then you shove it up your nose Turn it on, and you're gone Ooohhh... Chorus As various folks notably Ken Ryesky have reported, this was all based on a TV commercial for a game called "Fascination". Kay |
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| Ta Ra Ra Boom De Ay |
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-collected by Joe Bethancourt Tune: "Ta Ra Ra Boom De Ay" Ta ra ra boom de ay, have you had yours today? I had mine yesterday, a girl across the way! I laid her on the couch, and all she said was "Ouch!" Her mother was surprised to see her belly rise! From Brent B. Ta rah rah boom de ay I met a girl today I paid her fifty cents To go behind the fence Her mother was surprised To see her tummy rise Her father jumped for joy It was a baby boy From Southern California, '70s contributed by Joey McKangaroo Tra la la boom De-Ay... We have no school today! Our teacher passed away, She died just yesterday! We laid her in some hay, And threw her in the bay! And when we pulled her out, She smelled like sauerkraut! Tra la la boom de-ay, We have no school today! From Ziza Ta ra ra boom De-Ay... We've got no school today! Our teacher passed away, We shot her yesterday! We laid her in some hay, And threw her in the bay! And when we fished her out, She smelled like sauerkraut! Addendum from Dave Aronson The way I remember it was "She died of tooth decay". Especially appropriate at that age, when grownups keep threatening kids with it if we don't brush our teeth.... From Aldis Roig Lopez Ta ra la boom di-ay We had no school today. Our teacher passed away, She died of tooth decay! We threw her in the Bay, The sharks had lunch today! And when we pulled her out, She smelled like sauerkraut! Circa Miami, Florida - mid 1970's From Laura Ross Ta ra ra boom de ay We have no school today Our teacher passed away We shot her yesterday We threw her in the bay She scared the sharks away Ta ra ra boom de ay Ta ra ra boom de ay Ta ra ra boom de ay I'll take your clothes away And while you're standing there I'll take your underwear From TennesseeBob Here's a variation of "Ta Ra Ra Boom De Ay" that we used to sing in Australia in the '50's: Ta Ra Ra Boom De Ay I'm having twins today They suck my milk away Ta Ra Ra Boom De Ay! From Scott Jacob Loehr Ta-ra-ra-BOOM de-ay, I'll take your pants away! And if you don't beware, I'll take your underwear! And a short bit using the same tune, also contributed by Scott Jacob Loehr This is your BIRTH-day song, It doesn't last too long! Irving, Texas, elementary school 1966-1972. |
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| Howdy Doody Time |
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From Peter Mork It's Howdy Doody time It isn't worth a dime So turn to Channel Nine And you'll see Frankenstein Massachusetts, 1960s |
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| Take Me Out To The Graveyard |
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From Ziza Take me out to the graveyard Take me out to the dead Buy me spiders and sauerkraut We'll have such fun that we'll never come out (can't remember the rest but the last line was something like "and it's ONE, TWO, THREE strikes you're dead at the old graveyard)" From Adam Selzer; Take me out to the graveyard take me out to the graves buy me a bottle of turpentine I don't care if I meet frankenstein for it's root root root for the werewolves if they don't win it's a shame for it's EAT! DRINK! BARF in the sink at the ol' grave yard! Take me out to the graveyard take me out to the graves but me a bottle of turpentine I don't care if I meet frankenstein for it's root root root for the werewolves if they don't win it's a shame for it's EAT! DRINK! BARF in the sink at the ol' grave yard! Urbandale, IA 1988-89 or so |
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| Teacher, Teacher |
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contributed by Rich Brown Teacher, teacher, I've been thinking, What is that you have been drinking? Is it whiskey, is it wine? Oh my gosh, it's turpentine. contributed by Chuck Wilson Lincon, Lincon, I've been thinking, What's that stuff you've been drinking? Taste like beer smells like wine. Oh my God it's Turpentine. Illinois, 1959 |
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| The Big Fat Ladies... |
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Contributed by Mr-U Oh..the big fat la-dies on the moon, On the moon, on the moon. Oh.. the big fat la-dies on the moon, Flying high, flying low, As high as they can Go! |
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| The Burning Of The School |
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-collected by Joe Bethancourt -Tune: "Battle Hymn of the Republic" This is probably the most widespread of the kid's songs that I have heard. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school We have tortured all the teachers, we have broken every rule We are heading for the Principal with fire and torture too As we go marching on! CHORUS: Glory, glory halleluja, teacher hit me with a ruler (I bopped her on the bean with a rotten tangerine) (And her teeth came marching out! Chatter, Chatter!) NOTE: line two and line three of the chorus have many different versions. These are the different ones for line two that I have heard: Hid behind the door with a loaded .44 Met her at the bank with a German army tank Met her in the tub with a German navy sub Met her in the attic with a loaded automatic Hit her in the seater with a .50 millimeter I shot her in the butt with a rotten coconut I shot her in the hand with a loaded rubber band I met her at the door with a hungry dinosaur Teacher came in late so we sent her to Kuwait (!) Line three of the chorus also mutates: And my Teacher don't teach any more! And my Teacher ain't a Teacher any more! And we ain't seen the ol' bitch since! The school is burning down! Our troops are marching on! As we go marching on! And line three of the verse will change, too: We have shot the secretary and we've killed the Principal We have burned down the office and we've killed the Principal --Joe Bethancourt From tomboy (Rose) I blew her through the door With an AK-44 From Stephen Nelson Met her at the door With a loaded .44 and that teacher wasn't mine no more! A batch from Aaron Davies I got in the attic/With a semi-automatic I met her at the door/With a loaded .44 I got at the bank/With a Sherman army tank I sent to up to heaven/With an AK-47 We all called her Suzy/But I got her with an Uzi AND THERE AIN'T NO TEACHER NO MORE! From Kreme Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school we have tortured every teacher, we have broken every rule (something something something) (about the janitors?) and we hung the principal Our troops are marching on Glory Glory Haleluia! (or Gory Gory Haleluia!) Teacher hit me with a ruler (you had to change this line each time you sung the chorus) Our troops are marching on/She ain't my teacher no more From Ziza Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school We have tortured every teacher, we have broken every rule The principal tried to stop us but we nailed him to the door The school is burning down! CHORUS: Glory, glory halleluja, teacher hit me with a ruler I met her at the door with a loaded 44 And she ain't my teacher no more! From Susan Russell Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school We have tortured every teacher we have broken every rule And tomorrow afternnoon we're gonna hang the principle [something I don't remember] Glory glory halleluja Teacher hit me with a ruler I met her at the door with a loaded 44 And she ain't my teacher no more! From Amy Ford Oh, my eyes have seen the glory of a great big, long vacation It will help to make the boys and girls the leaders of the nation We'll perform an operation on the Board of Education Our youth goes marching on! Glory, glory hallelujah! Teacher hit me with a ruler I bopped her on the bean With a rotten tangerine And her teeth came marching out Oh, my eyes have seen the glory of the end of P.T.A. Now my pop can see my mom again she doesn't have to say, "I'm sorry there's a meeting dear. I won't be home today." My pop goes marching on! Glory, glory hallelujah! Teacher hit me with a ruler I met her at the door With a loaded .44 Now she ain't my teacher no more Oh, my eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school We have tortured all the teachers, we have broken all the rules We're going to have the principal tomorrow after school Our youth goes marching on! Glory, glory hallelujah! Teacher hit me with a ruler I met her at the bank With a loaded Sherman tank Now she ain't my teacher no more From Mad Pyrotechnologist Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school We have tortured all the the teachers We have broken every rule We Have barbecued the principal (something) the PTA From Eloise Beltz-Decker Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school We have tortured all the teachers, we have broken all the rules. We have played a game of poker, and we've played a game of pool. in the basement of the burning school! Glory, Glory, what's it to ya? Teacher hit me with a ruler. I met her at the door with a loaded .44 And there ain't no school no more! This was at St. Teresa de Avila grade school (it's not there anymore), Chicago, IL, USA, in 1982 or so. From Mark Schmidt on CaerAzkaban Glory, glory Hallelujah, Teacher hit me with a ruler, Hit her in the attic with a Spanish automatic, Teacher don't live anymore... |
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